Love is Still Here
by Cosmic Sky
Summary: It was at times easy for either Dimitri or Marianne to believe they were people incapable of being cared for by others or undeserving of love. Except when around each other. It was strange how they often lifted one another up. Being cared for by another person, that was a blessing that they were always willing bestow on each other. Azure Moon Route.


**Hey, everyone. My Three Houses binge continues and this time around I'm turning my attention toward our favorite one-eyed Boar Prince and a certain blue-haired believer who may or may not be a death seeker. Much like with Ingrid and Sylvain (and Felix and Annette), Dimitri and Marianne's support chain grabbed a hold of my heart and rung it pretty good. Two good-hearted people suffering under the weight of their inner demons which they gradually learn to let go off, that's the kind of love story that I can't help but get interested in. Enjoy. **

**I do not own anything.**

* * *

Fhirdiad, the capital of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. A city with a history stretching back hundreds of years.

Marianne couldn't help but wonder how much of that history had just gone up in smoke and flames at the battle's conclusion. Speaking of said battle, it was certainly going to be one for the history books, or at least she thought so. Without a doubt, the day had been…quite unusual, at least from what she understood regarding kingdom life. One didn't wake up expecting to find an army headed by the kingdom's lost prince marching into the capital and doing battle with a sorceress usurper backed by an platoon of extremely advanced and might golems that none had ever seen before. The whole thing seemed almost too fantastical to be real. But it was real, such a battle had unfolded.

And they'd won.

Against all odds, they'd come out victorious, or at least they seemed to have for the moment. Briefly, Marianne tore her eyes from the corpse lying a few feet from her to the surrounding area, a skyline of charred buildings and wildfires that would have to be put out before they grew out of control. She hated urban warfare; while she disliked war in general, she always found something horrific about the idea of it being waged in cities and towns, places where people lived and expected to be safe. Unfortunately, such was the nature of war. Including unexpected and unwanted surprises.

She wished she could unhear the words just as much as Dimitri could. A quick glance around at the rest of their assembled party told her that she was far from alone. In particular, Gilbert had a pained look on his face, as if he'd just been proven right on a matter he so desperately wished to be wrong about. Immediately, Marianne theorized that he had known of the Tragedy of Duscur and the role the queen, Dimitri's stepmother, had played in it. A role that had set in motion a terrible chain of events that had scarred many, including the prince himself. Said prince stood before her, staring at the corpse with an unreadable expression. Normally, Marianne would have just stood where she was, atop her horse trying to catch her breath much like the other combatants.

But she didn't do that. What she chose to do was dismount and rush over, her Blutgang still held tight in her hand. Normally, when slain, a person didn't come back to life, but that wasn't accounting for magic. Especially dark magic. Which the slain Cornelia had proven herself to be an adapt master of. While Marianne wasn't much for a reader of fantastical fiction, she knew enough to know that this could have been the part where the evil sorceress rose and made her final attack on the heroes. Shooting a side glance toward the blond prince, she realized he was expecting something similar. Based on the way his body trembled, Marianne was willing to guess a part of Dimitri might have even hoped for such a thing.

Horrific as it was, she didn't think many on their side would mind the one-eyed warrior prince splitting the long-haired woman from top to bottom leaving two bloody halves to be cleaned up instead of a unified corpse with a hole in its abdomen. Any second now, Marianne was expecting the wound to magically heal itself or for the corpse to vanish or reveal itself to be that of another poor soul.

She wasn't ready for it to be over, even as her brain frantically told her that it was. And her heart was begging for this horrendous stretch of bloodshed and warfare to be at its end. Not for her sake, but for Dimitri's.

Like her, the rest of the combatants were watching the Faerghus prince with worried eyes and tensed expressions. From Professor Byleth to Felix and Dedue and lastly Gilbert, whose expression remained more pained than she'd ever seen it.

_He knew. About Queen Patricia, he knew, or at least suspected it, but didn't want to believe it, or say it for Dimitri's sake. _To say that the revelation regarding the Tragedy of Duscur had been a game changer would have been an understatement. It also wouldn't have been a stretch to say it was an unwanted weight that had just been shackled to them all; arguably that might have been Cornelia's plan all along once it became clear that she was going to lose and they were going to be victorious. She might have known it the moment Dimitri made a beeline straight for her after they'd crushed the last of her defenses. Her word had turned the building excitement and relief bittersweet.

Before she knew it, she was at his side, her eyes filled with immense worry and anxiety as she looked up at him. Miraculously, he looked back at her. Little more than a thin sheet of paper was keeping the emotional turmoil he was feeling at bay. Any second, there was a chance it would burst forth and completely sully the hard-fought victory. No, it would shatter the already-broken man who'd just begun piecing himself back together.

Marianne reached for his hand with her free left hand. Though they were both wearing armor, she could feel her warmth flowing into him, and odds were Dimitri could feel it as well. His lone eye rose in shock at the sudden contact, both physical and optical. It wasn't like Marianne was trying to be encouraging or actually speaking to him, all she was doing was standing at his side, as she'd always done, as she'd always hoped of doing.

Briefly, his eyes flashed with amazement before hardening, though not in a cruel of viscous way like they used to. Sucking in a quick breath, he walked forward then raised his family's Hero Relic, the might Areadbhar, to the smoky skies. A proud and righteous roar rose from his lips proclaiming the day was theirs.

Within seconds, a roar of similar shouts and victory cries echoed his own. Weapons were raised skyward and some were even thrown into the air along with other garments. It was merely the prelude of what was without a doubt going to be a night full of celebrations and relief. Marianne was able to give a brief smile at that, if only for a moment.

But she knew not exactly everyone was going to be celebrated. Like the man who'd struck the final blow solidifying their victory. Something in Marianne's gut told her that Dimitri wasn't going to be basking in the victory celebrations like everyone else.

If so, then she knew exactly where she was going to be.

* * *

Night gradually fell like a slow descending curtain. Some were grateful for the darkness as it managed to obscured the devastation that had befallen Fhirdiad at least until the next morning when dawn broke and the sun bathed the world in light. Or that's what some people believed. With the darkening of the sky city night lights went up one after another so people could find their way. It was sorely needed as a good chunk of the capital had been demolished in the day's fighting. Quite a few people now found themselves without homes, livelihoods, or both.

Naturally, Dimitri had opened up the royal palace to any and all lacking homes or shelter for the night and the future. Quite a few had breathed a sigh of relief in seeing the royal palace was unharmed, and its interior that been spared too much of the taint that Cornelia and the Adrestian Empire had forced upon them. There were few complaints or push back in allowing commoners and the lower class alike into the sacred halls that belonged to the Blaiddyd Family.

Speaking of the family, its latest heir was absent, at least so far as Marianne could tell.

"If you're looking for him, I'd suggest the royal tomb. Not that I've been there myself." In some ways, she was a tad bit glad that their professor hadn't lost his "ghost-like allure", including his ability to seemingly appear without any warning of lead up. Physically speaking, he hadn't changed much, not even since the battle's conclusion. Resting atop his shoulders, the sleeves lying by his side was his black overcoat. It might have been Marianne's imagination, but she could have sworn that as she looked to him with shock, his lips briefly ticked upward. What had changed was that he'd become noticeable more expressive since returning to them. "What Cornelia said, Gilbert's doing his best to investigate it, as is Dedue, though not because he cares about the tragedy but because he's worried about Dimitri. I'm thinking I should be joining them."

"P-Professor, I imagine you'll disappoint quite a few of the ladies attending this celebration." Marianne smiled as well, briefly turning her gaze to her left where she saw a collection of ladies immediately hush up and scatter. Byleth's light smirk bloomed into a more easy-going smile as he caught the break up as well. "I-It seems that your popularity from the academy has followed you here to the kingdom."

"So it has." Mused the minty-green-haired swordsman. His cool gaze met Marianne's as motioned with his fingers to his left. "You've also become quite popular amongst the ranks. 'Lady Marianne', the 'Storm Maiden', and my personal favorite, 'Holy Slasher'." With every title, Marianne's face grew redder and redder, her ability to speak quickly dissipating. "It wouldn't surprise me if by morning you were getting a queen's worth of marriage proposals. Speaking of queens-"

"I-I-I have to go, P-P-P-P-P-Professor!" Cried the blue-haired woman feeling like she was about to explode from embarrassment.

"He's got a major soft spot for you!" Shouted the former mercenary with a placid smile on his face. It fueled her enough to the point that Marianne thought she was going to trip over her own feet. As she practically sprinted out of the ballroom it dawned on her that she was actually a little grateful for the professor's light prodding. Looking back, Marianne realized that was one of the first signs that he was opening up and beginning to feel comfortable with the rest of them. Marianne was happy for him, even if he seemed to take a little too much pleasure in playing with them. She doubted she'd ever be able to do anything of the sort in the foreseeable future.

But would Dimitri?

As she walked, she remembered those rare times when the blond prince allowed himself to…relax almost. It was often when he was talking with Sylvain and Claude, two of people who seemed to know how to get under his skin, in a good way. Gradually, Professor Byleth had joined the previous two making for a nice trio. That left her, someone he always sought out whenever his thoughts grew too heavy to bear. Marianne always found herself opening up to him, absorbing his words and insecurities while she opened herself up to him. Without a doubt, interacting with Dimitri had become one of her favorite things to do at the Monastery.

But then things changed.

Edelgard led the Adrestian Empire on a war march that left Garreg Mach a decimated shell of its former self. Looking out at the approaching army, losing count of the literal thousands of armed and ready knights, mages, and goddess-forbid, Demonic Beasts had caused her heart to sink.

Quietly, mere minutes before the battle began, Marianne realized she wasn't sad for herself and her possible death. What made her tremble with fear were the deaths of her comrades, in both the Blue Lions and the Golden Deer. The two remaining Houses had united with the Knights of Seiros to repel the invasion.

They'd failed, though Marianne could say it certainly wasn't for lack of trying, quite the opposite. Every man and woman capable of picking up a weapon had fought, even those just barely into their teenage years such as Flayn in spite of protest. It had been a noble effort, but when all was said and done, they'd fallen short in attempting to drive back the empire. At least while something of the monastery remained.

Everyone had felt like they'd failed, but some took it harder than others. Dimitri had been one such person. He'd already snapped upon learning that Edelgard was the Flame Emperor thus responsible for the string of attacks that had been plaguing Garreg Mach for the last year. The same attacks that had claimed the lives of many innocent people, and eventually the life of Professor Byleth's own father. Marianne had been down in the tombs and witnessed Dimitri's transformation from a kind and noble young man to a brutal murderer.

He enjoyed it, relished it in. She could see that on his face as he fought his way to Edelgard, ruthlessly slaughtering her soldiers, who fell trying to defend her until Hubert arrived to fairy her away.

Even after that, Marianne's fears weren't of Dimitri but for him. She knew then and there that something inside of him had broken. The damage became more evident as they regrouped and prepared to defend the monastery. He was little more than a cackling mass of murderous intent, albeit one that was willing to follow Professor Byleth's orders. The divine-powered professor seemed to take notice of Dimitri's sudden transformation, and made use of it. He'd been sent clear down the middle, directly into the middle of the approaching army, which he smashed through like a lion on the hunt.

And yet he'd failed to kill Edelgard as he so fervently wished, and then they lost the professor.

The man who'd helped her emerge from the darkness that was apathy and self-loathing, and the man who'd given her a reason to smile and laugh and even love herself just a bit, both of them were gone. Normally, she would have quite right then and there, but she found the strength to keep going somehow.

Stopping and turning about, Marianne was reminded why. She still had a reason to live, she had people who wanted her to live. Most of those people were smiling and laughing, even Felix, who was busy dancing with the fiery-haired Annette. The two were polar opposites, but perhaps that was why they were such a perfect fit for one another. Similar circumstances applied to Sylvain and Ingrid. Giggling, Marianne remembered those rare times she'd caught the two of them sneaking affectionate glances at one another only to cease believing someone was watching them. They hadn't been wrong, but it was nice to see them basking in the light with everyone else. Marianne would have liked to be one that basked in the light of love with them, but she wasn't going to hold her breath.

She'd been blessed, but at heart, she worried that her blessings would only extend so far. Turning on her heel, she left the ballroom, leaving the laughter and festivities aside to return to the subtle darkness of silence.

* * *

The royal graveyard, at times called the Grave of Lions. It was a fitting name as the entire place spoke of regal pride and honor. Ornate tombstones that lined the sides, names, titles, and deeds inscribed on the dark gray stones. There was no need for the torches to be lit as the glow of the moon illuminated the massive chamber casting an eerie yet tranquil light over the outdoor graveyard. Statues of knights and lions and griffins stood tall like stone sentinels keeping watch over the graves of past kings and queens and royals. Marianne quietly prayed that they would allow for her to be her, she who was not born of royalty but of a cursed lineage that brought nothing but misfortune. If only for a moment, she wanted to be with the one-eyed prince that was now Faerghus' king.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't conceal her footsteps, not when her emotions were racing at the speed of lightning. They wouldn't end even if she found the person whom she was looking for.

Or rather, he found her. "You…should be inside, with the others enjoying yourself."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she moved towards the fur-caped lord who would sit upon Faerghus' throne when the war ended. "I-I would prefer to be…be beside you. I…your presence always puts me at ease. Besides, you know big events aren't exactly my specialty, at least not when I don't have anyone beside me." Marianne answered with a small smile. It was thanks to him she'd been able to put such expressions on her face, and go beyond them.

While the army rightfully celebrated and everyone danced about with smiles on their faces, Dimitri was crying. He looked to her with a line of tears sliding down his left side. Briefly, he attempted to smile, but Marianne decided he didn't have to force him to. Just as he'd told her there was no reason for her to be happy when inside she really wasn't. Gently, she reached up and cupped his cheek, using her thumb to wipe the tears away. Over the five years, he'd grown into a near giant of a man, with the corresponding strength to match his newfound height. Luckily, he was a gentle giant. At heart, he'd always been a gentle and kind person, even if he lost sight of it.

The minute their skin made contact, Dimitri felt something inside of him unwind. Perhaps he'd been waiting for a moment like this, or maybe it was just the simple effect Marianne had on him. Either way, he relished in her touch, placing his hand against hers. "You can find better company than a lowly beast like me. After your efforts today, I'm sure there are swarms of bachelors lined up to take your hand."

"And yet I've chosen to have it here, on one of the people I care the most about." Came her soft reply. She looked at him, his lone left eye staring back at her with tenderness mixed in with the tears. If they continued to fall then she would brush them away, as anyone would do for someone they cared about. Marianne had long since decided that she would repay the Faerghus prince-turned-king in any way she could, just as she'd promised Professor Byleth that she would move forward in spite of what came her way. She left her hand to wipe away the few tears that escaped from his eyelids. "Dimitri, in spite of what Cornelia said…you are…you were still loved, and you are loved now."

"So," he began humorlessly. "You heard her final words as well."

Grimly, she nodded. "It doesn't matter. None of what she said matters."

"I…I know that." Answered back the lance-wielding lord, slightly surprising her. "The past cannot be changed, nor will mourning for it alter anything. Yet I…"

"The shadows it cast are long, and it takes us time to outgrow them." Replied the blue-haired woman. That had been a quote the professor had told them from a famous philosopher of the distant past. At the time, it had merely been something catchy and thought-provoking; the two former students now knew it was more than that. Rather than just a phrase, it was something people could do, provided they were willing to work at it. "If I may, I don't believe we can trust in the words of a madwoman like Cornelia, or at least I wouldn't."

"That's because you're wise, and I…I really don't know what to call myself. I suppose even beasts have their hunting instincts, but what of beyond that?"

"Even beasts can love, and be loved." She replied. "Just how like they loved you." Turning back to face the tombstones, she briefly wondered what would the past deceased king of Faerghus and his first wife had thought of the current state of Fódlan. What would they have thought of the Blue Lions class? What would they have thought of _her_? "Dimitri, I…I never quite knew my parents, and my adoptive father was far from the most caring parent to be had…but I…eventually I…I discovered that love can come from different places. Places that you can only venture to if you continue to live life. You and Professor Byleth taught me that. Even if your adoptive mother…no, I'm sure she must have cared for you if just a little. Your birthmother…I know for a fact she loved you with all of her heart."

An invisible fist clenched at the cycloptic man's heart. "My father always told me the same thing. That…the last thing she wanted to see was my face and his. I…I just…there's so much I wish I could have said and done for her, yet I have so few memories of her. I feel awful."

"Don't, I'm sure she'd be happy to see that you're back to yourself. Back to being the person she and your father hoped you'd grow into." Gently coaxed the Holy Knight.

"Only thanks to the help of you all, all of you who refused to give up on a bloodthirsty fool such as myself." Laughed the royal Crest bearer. It was a laugh that was more humorous then self-mocking. Marianne was happy to hear it, just as he enjoyed hearing her laugh, so did she enjoy hearing him. "If anything, the victory celebrations truly belong to all of you."

"And you too, you are after all, the king." It was strange, she'd gone well beyond her limits, or what she thought were her limits. In a way, she was proving the truth of her own words about exploring the unknown by continuing to live on. "The celebrations are just getting started so…perhaps you could…come back and…well…do your duty as king and…propose a toast?"

"You know, I'm pretty sure a quarter of the populace is already quite drunk already."

They both shared a laugh at the statement, which was more than likely true.

"Be that as it may, you are now king, and there are certain duties you're expected to before. Some of them joyous…and others not quite, but you'll get a laugh or two out of them." Her tone was warm, yet with an edge of sternness in it, much like the professor's at times. This wasn't the first time he'd heard her speak in such a way; when he did, they were rare and cherished moments. They were the moments that showed that Marianne had been raised as the daughter of Duke Edmund of the Leicester Alliance, and that his teachings had not gone to waste.

It would have been poor for him not to treat such a woman as she deserved. "Noted, then…shall we be off?"

It must have been quite a while since one cried out in humorous shock within the royal graveyard. Actually, such a thing was out of place in a graveyard altogether. Marianne stood there, mouth agape and her face rapidly turning the color of cherries while Dimitri lightly laughed in amusement. His arm was held out, like a knight asking for a lady to dance. It finally dawned on her that they'd danced one before-during the night of the ball before things had…changed. The memory brought a smile to her face, and the smile remained even as it faded and she found herself back in reality. Reality wasn't as cold and mercilessly as she'd always believed it to be, not anymore.

"You know…I…sometimes I look back, and it seems like just like yesterday we were at Garreg Mach, preparing for battle." She stated in quiet silence as she took his hand. "We lost so many good people on that day."

"Yes…we did…and…we continue to lose more every day." Added the downcast warrior before looking up to her with an encouraging smile. "But I believe it is our duty to bring these dark days to an end. As king…that will be my goal."

"And it is one that all of us will support you in. One that I…I'll try my best to help you in doing." She added, her face now bright red as a tomato.

It was a known fact that Faerghus could get quite cold, and that especially held true for the capital. At the moment though, neither Dimitri nor Marianne could say they felt the coldness biting at them. Instead, all they felt was a warm sensation much like the glow of a hearth. One walked with the other, keeping the pair warm even as they entered the palace. It only grew when they entered the ballroom and found all eyes immediately snap to them.

Normally, Marianne would have shirked away from such attention, but this time, she stood up straight and smiled proudly. She was greeted with a literal wave of positivity that momentarily left her speechless. Breaking the silence was a light squeeze of her hand. Looking up to her right, she was reminded that the greatest flame burning wasn't any of the hearts scattered about, it was within the strong and noble chest of the man beside her. In that instant, she made a vow she'd keep that flame burning for as long as she could.

* * *

He knew that she was terrified, she had every right to be. Honestly, he was a bit scared himself for similar reasons.

When news arrived that Claude was requesting aid, he'd accepted without a moment's hesitation. He owed to his old classmate and his house. After that, everything had practically fallen into place on its own. While retaking Fhirdiad had filled people with new sense of hope, then came the possibility of retaking Derdriu and it seemed like people were beginning to believe the war had reached its final stage. Dimitri and Byleth admitted amongst their advisers and the other senior leaders that if they succeeded in retaking the Alliance capital then such talk would become true. The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus had broken free of the Adrestian Empire and all across the kingdom counter attacks were being coordinated and launched driving the imperial forces back. If they could do the same with the Leicester Alliance then it would even things out, no, it would perhaps turn the tide of the war in their favor.

With Brigid now in open rebellion against the Empire led by Petra it meant that they could effectively combat the imperial juggernaut from two sides even eventually crush it. Actually, nowadays, the Adrestian Army was seeming like less of an unstoppable monster than it did a year ago.

But before all that, Dimitri knew he and Marianne would have to get through another battle. This one wouldn't be fought with spears or magic, but with words and emotions. Neither of them had much confidence in their abilities.

It wasn't like he could just drop everything and go to Marianne, no matter how much he wanted to. Luckily for him, the Professor had gotten extremely good at covering for him, perhaps too good. He offered to take over military planning for the evening so he could take some time off. Dimitri distinctively saw Gilbert and Seteth's eyes flash with recognition. Thankfully, Alois hardly even noticed. Quietly, he excused himself. Already, he could picture the quiet talks the two veteran men would be having with the young former mercenary. Again, he owed the Ashen Demon his thanks.

Finding Marianne wasn't as difficult as one might have imagined. She'd become many things to the army, fighter, healer, counselor, and caretaker of the animals they brought with them. The makeshift stable they'd created for the animals sat beside a moderately-sized hilltop that whose base was dotted with fertile grass; it was just the sort that Dorte preferred, and that's exactly where he found the somewhat moody but reliable horse.

Giving the one-eyed royal an affectionate nuzzle as if to spurn him onward, the horse motioned to ward the hilltop. Without a word, he ascended to the top, finding his blue-haired comrade and friend sitting with her knees up. She hadn't seemed to notice him, yet. That left Dimitri at a bit of a crossroads on what to do.

For better or for worse, Sylvain's words echoed in his head. He could never allow the bright-haired knight to know that his advice was going to be followed. At least, not until the war was over and Dimitri could properly threaten him into not saying a word. Or order Ingrid to do it for him.

"H-Huh?" Exclaimed the healer finding a familiar arm wrapping around her shoulders. Upon recognizing it, she subconsciously relaxed into it, no fuss or doubts. "I'm…I'm scared." Admitted the Holy Knight, her lip quivering.

"You are not alone." Gently answered the Great Lord with a small smile. "You won't be alone when you see Claude and the others, you'll have Lorenz by your side, and he shall vouch for you, though I doubt there'll be any need to. If anything, Hilda and the others were simply be happy to see that you are alright."

What he didn't' say was that she'd be able to see them again, and not have to worry about potentially killing each other as they'd had to contend with at Gronder Field. To say it'd left them with nightmares had been an understatement, no one had walked away from the battle clean…or whole. Not even Dimitri, who ironically _regained _his sanity in the battle's aftermath, albeit at the cost of Rodrigue.

"Do you really think they'll be happy to see me? A person who switched houses and left them all to-"

"Marianne," His voice was firm, yet at the same time gentle and soothing like the evening wind that blew across the fields before them. Alliance territory was so unlike that of Faerghus, warmth more readily rode the air and made for more pleasant weather. It also allowed for more dazzling sunsets, such as the one they were witnessing. "The choice you made, it was one that you told me all of your Housemates applauded you for, and even then, that change never stopped you from interacting with them. Up until Edelgard's invasion, you spent much of your time with Hilda and I certainly remember you and Raphael laughing together." Briefly, the warrior king's face fell. "Speaking of Raphael…I owe him quite the apology."

The memory had ingrained itself into her memory, though not for reasons one might have suspected. As the battle between the Kingdom and Empire raged, Claude had the Alliance army rightfully keeping their distance, at least until their hand was forced. Edelgard sprung a surprise attack from the side that forced them into battle, and from there it became a bloody and chaotic maelstrom in which the three armies became embroiled in a fight for survival. Alliance soldiers had no choice but to attack Kingdom troops, who often found themselves in the crosshairs while trying to combat the Empire's forces. Marianne had heard that Professor Byleth suspected Edelgard to have planned the whole thing out.

The fact that she launched a series of explosive fireballs onto the battlefield proved him correct. Hundreds of Kingdom and Alliance troops had died from the bombardment; they all died together, screaming in agony, something that wouldn't have happened if the latter had been able to maintain their distance and even provide backup to their forces. Instead, they'd ended up fighting one another, and killing one another.

Dimitri had been on yet another bloody rampage, carving a path to Edelgard, at least until he ended up getting turned around and found himself back in her general vicinity. As it so happened, Raphael had found himself in a similar situation, he was trying to get to the hilltop and perhaps talk Bernadetta into surrendering. Instead, he'd ran into the King of Lions, who himself was in a very foul mood.

And yet he'd lived.

Marianne had watched from a distance in horror as Dimitri confronted her old classmate. Her body was moving before her mind could know any better, a scream rising in her throat.

Either Dimitri heard it, or his innate morality kicked triggering his memories of their academy days. Raphael's gauntlets were deflected, and the vengeful royal drive a hard jab into Raphael's gut knocking the air out of him. He then proceeded to defeat any and every surrounding enemy. By the time Marianne had caught up to them, Raphael was on his knee, apparently waiting for Dimitri to deliver the deathblow. It never came, a feat that surprised the both of them.

"He'll forgive you." She said suddenly, catching his attention. "You left before, but I could tell…Raphael looked at you, then he looked at me. He…I think he was telling me to look after you. He knew that if you wanted to, you could have killed him. After all," A heartfelt giggle escaped her lips causing Dimitri to smile. "You did accidentally punch out a Great Knight him off his horse and nearly giving him a concussion."

That was yet another memory he tried not to think too hard about, though everyone else seemed to enjoy retelling it. A mission involving practice sparring with Alliance troops, and it'd ended with Dimitri earning the nickname, "Prince of Punches" for his abnormal and somewhat horrifying strength. Men in plated armor and him with his fists. Absolutely no expected him to come out the victor. Onlookers had made jokes about what would have happened if he hadn't been holding back or he'd actually hit a vital area or if his opponent hadn't been wearing armor.

There was a long list of men and a few women who could answer that question, provided they could be raised from the dead. Then again, their corpses probably spoke volumes.

"Men such as Dedue, Caspar, and Raphael, and I have punching power on par with them, and I don't even fight with gauntlets." Muttered the Faerghus royal with shyness in his voice.

Hearing it caused Marianne to laugh. "Anyway, when I saw you hold back, when I saw you restrain yourself, that's when I…I think that's what helped me believe I-I-I mean w-w-we, hadn't completely lost you!" Throwing caution to the wind, she'd tended to Raphael in the immediate aftermath. He looked none the worse for wear, stating he would have hugged her if they weren't on the battlefield. Maybe this time things would be a tad bit different. "I…I want to see them all again, no matter their reactions, I-"

"Then go to them. Don't worry, you'll have all of us behind you. You'll have…me." Finally finished the blond king after a moment of pause. It still felt so strange, trying to give another hope when he still felt his grasp on his own was shaky at best. "Personally, I've never been to the Alliance capital before, I'm actually interested to see what it'll be sight-seeing in the middle of a battle."

"Then perhaps when the war's over we can all…go to Derdriu as a leisure trip. Or at least, that's what Annette suggested. I quite like the idea as the capital really is quite beautiful." Stated the Alliance native remembering her time in visiting the waterside city. More than just its beauty, it was one of the precious memories she possessed with her adoptive father. They stayed in the city longer than they'd planned on account of her. He'd said not one word about it on their return home. "If we encounter Lord Arundel, will you…question him about what Cornelia said?"

There was an audible pause on the part of the one-eyed lance-user. "Honestly, I don't know, but I'm past the point of letting it trouble me. Rather my stepmother truly loved me or not…rather she was responsible for the Tragedy of Duscur or not, these are all questions that can be asked once the war's over. As for their answer…they won't change anything. I know who and what I am…and I know what I must strive to be."

Upon hearing those words, Marianne breathed out a sigh of relief and leaded into Dimitri. Given the rather noticeable size difference between them, the king found himself playing the role of a human pillow. He didn't at all mind it.

Time quietly slipped past the pair, being marked by the gradually sinking of the sun beneath the horizon causing the sky to turn from bright to darkness. Soon they would have to return back to camp least their allies begin to worry.

"Marianne," Began the ruler of Faerghus.

"Y-Yes?"

She said nothing at the light blush on his face, or anything about the frantic racing of his heart behind his armor.

"When the war is over…would you…ever consider returning to Faerghus? F-For diplomatic reasons!" In a heartbeat, he seemed to have switched minds with his younger self. It was quite cute to see. "What I mean to say is…I…I would like to keep seeing you, having you at my side if you can stand being around me."

"I've enjoyed being around you this long," Began the Holy Knight looking to him with a smile. "You promised me that you would live through to the end of this war, and I promised you the same. So, I…guess my answer is…yes, yes, I would. Just…promise me that you'll be careful, okay?"

They rose together, a lord and knight, a man and a lady, a beast…and a beautiful woman. In spite of all those labels, the pair simply saw one another as someone to be trusted, cherished. That was all that mattered for deep down in their hearts, they'd thought they would never find such a person. Fate had a funny way of how things worked out, but neither Dimitri nor Marianne were complaining. They never would for that strangeness had led them to one another. Between the two of them a promise had been made to struggle on and endure, and that promise would remain binding until the end of their days.

Dorte gave a near approving cry as the pair descended down the hilltop, closer than one would have expected.

Several months later, when the daughter of Duke Edmund returned to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, he would make a similar sound. One could almost say the steed laughed in triumph when the Holy Knight ran into the arms of the newly crowned king, their lips smashing together and applause breaking out from onlookers, or at least those that had seen such a thing coming.

* * *

**I made some slight modifications to the Battle of Gronder Field such as Edelgard forcing Claude's hand then letting the general chaos of battle do the rest to justify the three nations fighting each other. I mean depending on the route she can have ruthless on par with the series' traditional conqueror villains, who put victory over almost everything else. That was preferable to the game pretty much forcing the Alliance to attack for no other reason then creating the Battle of Gronder Field 2.0. I enjoyed writing for Dimitri and Marianne and I'm looking forward to doing so again, preferable in the winter and spring where I can have some fun in putting them into some…particular situations. Until then!**


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